court. But the court, nor wealth, nor fame, nor royal friendship, nor the homage of men of genius, could retain Amedee in either Italy or Sweden. He returned to his own dear Saxony, and felt his highest glory and reward for his talents and absence to be his father, mother, brother, and sisters' love. One day, as he was walking in the park of the elector, at Dresden, he was suddenly struck with apoplexy, and fell down to rise no more. He died on the 27th of May, 1801, aged fifty-six years, and his country yet honours his name. PORTRAIT GALLERY. FANNY FORESTER. HOWEVER much the mental philosopher and political economist may dispute concerning the relative powers and capacities of man and woman, the latter has, indubitably in many instances, preferred and sustained a claim of intellectual equality. Denied a position on the stage of political action, and, for a long season, even denied freedom of thought by a worse than Salic prejudice, woman has nevertheless taken her place in the republic of letters, and maintained the inalienability of her tuitive character. There are few falsehoods so old, or so generally accredited, as that of woman's inferiority to man. been one of the worst social consequences of the fall, and It seems to have to have tended more to perpetuate and aggravate the state of sin and misery than any other idea proceeding from the disobedience and arrogant egotism of man. economy divided against itself is the very climax of social The human enmity. The male half of humanity lording it over the female half perfects the debasing and demoralising condition of social slavery; and the reaction of woman's false position upon man inevitably completes the Cimmerian darkness of the night of sin. Wherever we turn we be hold, through the light of history, woman as a slave, and man as her tyrant. To the Jew she was a secondary being; to the barbarian a slave. she is but the highest creature in the material system; and With the Mussulman even in Christendom the question is asked, 'What are woman's rights?' It would have been wonderful if a universal system of feminine degradation had left to man one idea of female equality. Tradition pointed its finger at her as the cause of sin and sorrow; her physical weakness made her an easy object of individual conquest; and the impressible and gentle nature of her sentiments rendered her so yielding that man at length believed the inferiority which he had induced to be the natural condition of her who was made to be his co-mate and equal. It is indisputable that there are individual differences between man and woman, and that they have particular parts to perform in the human economy; but in all questions of unascertained right, woman has a verdict to give as well as and she bids us define the rights of man before we attempt to limit those of woman. characterise man and woman, we should regard them as If we were to distinctly the representatives of two great principles-those of force and power; the masculine attributes being vigorous and froward; the feminine gentle and persuasive. The former has held dominion over the material world through science, labour, and war; the dominion of the latter is over the affections of the soul. In the history of English literature we find but scanty records of the activities of woman; and when we do behold her appear in the annals of letters it is not as herself. Succumbing to the masculine prejudice which met her at the gates of Apollo's temple, she adopted the voice of man and accepted the title of Blue-stocking.' She believed, at first, that she could not enter the literary circles save as a philosopher and scholar; and so she cast aside the woman and climbed the stilts of the savant. man, Lady Mary Wortley Montague's is the first female name, with two or three trifling exceptions, that appears in the catalogue of English authorship, and certainly she does not appear in the most feminine aspect, while the stiff, sententious Johnsonisms of Hannah More, and the 409 wild idealities of Ann Radcliffe, seem to be as unnatural to them, as women, as would be slouched hats and ironcased spectacles. We may congratulate ourselves, however, that the last thirty years have been especially fruitful of feminine additions to our literature; and they have and full of love, they have flowed from the altar-hearth, been so in the true sense of the word. Chaste, beautiful, and the heart-region of home, to infuse into the general stream of thought the maternal element; to recall, with the silvery tones of woman's voice, the mind too eagerly wrestling with the future, to the memories of youth, and truth, and home, and sisters, and mothers. From the days of Enoch to those of Christ, woman's influence was unseen. She nursed men to walk with God; and, bending over the cradle of her heart's treasures, like Lois and Timothies; but it was only when He who wept with Mary Eunice, breathed holy precepts into the souls of her young and Martha spoke the words of universal human equality that the theory of woman's social restoration was proclaimed; and it is only within a few short years that we perceive her reclaiming, in the arena of letters, the idea of her inferiority. The grand element of woman's character is love; and happily the grand characteristic of our feminine literature is the same. worth, Miss Ferrier, Mary Howitt, Mrs S. C. Hall, L. M. Child, L. E. Landon, and all the host of stars that fret the Mrs Hemans, Miss Edgelustrations this beautiful principle. They speak and sing dome of the temple of woman's fame, exhibit in their ilfrom the heart, and the heart of this great, bustling, cold, and callous world grows softer under the influences of quicker and wider celebrity than that of Fanny Forester,' their love-tuned voices. Few names have attained a and few, perhaps, from so dissimilar causes. rising star in the horizon of literary fame, and then she came known as a skilful painter of life and manners, as a She first bepassed voluntarily away from the admiring eyes of men to an obscure but more admirable position than she had hitherto occupied, or could ever hope to occupy as a mere artist. Fanny Forester' is the graceful pseudonymic of assumed instead of the less harmonious title of Miss one of the sweetest of American female authors; and was Emily Chubbuck. The chief features of this gifted and amiable woman's life are striking ones, and are certainly her own beautiful story of Grace Linden,' these features more common in republican America than with us. are strikingly and admirably illustrated. Original poverty is the source from which the strong minds of America spring, and manual labour is the universal means by which the energetic pave their early way to fortune and to fame. No conventional prescriptive millstone crushes down the bold aspirants. Sovereignty is theirs by birth; and, with Many of the most talented and accomplished women in will and capacity, the highest estate is open to them. America have begun life as factory workers. They took the initiative to independent action at Lowell, where, by the labour of their hands, they acquired the means of cultiboarding-school, from the boarding-school to the teacher's vating their minds. From the mill they have proceeded to the desk, and from the desk to the homes of the wealthy merchant, the sagacious senator, and the learned professor. The parents of Emily Chubbuck were remarkable only for probity and industry-two remarkable and beautiful attributes which descended to their child. She was born in a sweet rural village of New York, which she has canonised under the designation of Alderbrook; and, by her talents and energy, she attained to a position of high respectability, as a teacher, in her native state. Fouche, who was himself originally a schoolmaster, says that all great men have begun to teach themselves to be great by teaching others; and certes, from the days of Homer to those of Carlyle, examples seem to favour the hypothesis. Emily Chubbuck first literary adventure. She came to N. P. Willis, it is was teaching school in New York when she essayed her said, in the form of a letter and manuscript, both of which captivated the learned Rhadamanthus, and imposed upon that literary credulity which had so oft before been imposed upon. The letter purported to be from a gay laugh In ing Fanny Forester,' yet in her teens, who, longing for a new bonnet and having scarcely wherewithal to purchase it, ventured to present the accompanying tale to the 'Mirror,' and hoped that the editor would think its author worthy of a few dollars. Miss Chubbuck, who still retained the full flushing of the poetry of youth, and whose heart was as fresh as the roses of Alderbrook, had, nevertheless, trod upon the borders of forty years; and, pleased with the fame which her writings suddenly won and the romance of her incognito, she retained her true name and position even from Willis, until circumstances constrained her to divulge them. In 1846, Dr Judson, the celebrated American missionary, sought out Miss Chubbuck in order that she might compile, from the materials in his possession, a biographical sketch of his second wife, Sarah Boardman Judson. She had scarcely finished this work when she consented to take up the cross of her whose life she had been writing; and she is now Mrs Judson, a member of the American mission to Burmah. In the writings of Fanny Forester' there breathes a fresh, joyous spirit of juvenility and love, which is extremely feminine and extremely pleasing; but in her style there is sometimes perceptible that tint which is borrowed from education and effort. The heart that doats over the streams, and flowers, and memories, of sweet Alderbrook, is the heart of happy, hopeful, sunny-souled, little Fanny;' but the eye and judgment that analyses and distinguishes the characters of the Alderbrookians, is that of the quick, keen, penetrative, yet kindly schoolmistress. In 1848, the collected works of Miss Chubbuck, dedicated to her husband, were published at Boston, under the title of Alderbrook;' and they amply establish the hopes that were entertained of her as a writer, if providence had not opened up to her what she esteemed to be a more useful path of duty. In every page of her writings is displayed a fine sense of human nature, and a correct appreciation of the proprieties of her narrative. Her inventive powers are regulated by her judgment, and her judgment is tempered by a happy benevolence and an enthusiastic love of nature. The first of her tales, Grace Linden,' is in our estimation the best. In Britain it would be an improbable romance, in America it is a natural and very likely history. The writings of Fanny Forester' are chiefly tales, but they are modelled in a moral and loving form; they are elegant as compositions, and pleasant as companions; but they are also safe and striking sermons on virtue. She has led the little meek victims of parental vice or worldly neglect forth from the holy obscurity of their suffering, to plead with their pale cheeks and patient eyes at the drunkard's heart and the statesman's bosom; she has lifted the rude garment of the woodsman and the gay robe of the millionaire's child, that men might look into their hearts and behold kindred sentiments and an identical nature. Fanny Forester is a philosopher-a knowing, thoughtful, casual philosopher; but, happily, she is a Christian one, as hopeful and charitable as she is wise. To vice and the causes from which it usually springs she is no stranger; but she can also dissociate deeds from motives, and perceive that feelings, the most holy and noble in themselves, may lead to the commission of actions the most reprehensible. The literary productions of Fanny Forester exhibit two prominent characteristics-sensibility and love; and that these were really attributes of her character, the events of her life have proven. A love of nature and of humanity, and a keen sensibility towards all that was beautiful and good in them, pervaded her whole soul; but chief and supreme over all her affections was the love of God and of the Saviour; and so she went forth into the dark wilderness of India, with the apostle's scrip and staff to speed the apostolic work. And did she go forth singing glad songs, and casting behind, as vain, the memories which had peopled her fancy and heart since childhood? Ah, no! she left her home willingly, but she left it as woman ever should leave dear home-in tears; and she tore herself away from the kindred of her love with these soft words and blessings on her lips : "The hours of my childhood have gone back to their old obliviousness in eternity; youth is on the wing, fleeing— fleeing-fleeing. There is but a narrow shadow lying be tween my foot and the grave which it seeks—a veil of grey mist, that a few to-days will dissolve into-what?-the sickening perfume of dead flowers, or incense grateful to Heaven? This is a beautiful, bright world, made for pure beings. At its birth angels walked among its cool shadows, bent to its bright waters, and inhaled its perfumes; and they fled not, those holy ones, till their wings drooped beneath the defiling heaviness of sin. A false breath played up the brow of man; heedlessly he opened his bosom to it; and there it at once nestled, a fatal poison, ever distilling venom. Still the flowers bloomed; still the waters flashed and sparkled in the warm light; still the breezes waved their censers laden with rich perfume; still the birds carolled; the stars smiled; leaves rustled, kissing each other lovingly; dews slumbered in lily bells and the hearts of roses, and crept around withering roots, and revived fading petals; the sun, and the moon, and the silver twilight, each wrought its own peculiar broidery on earth and sky; but upon the flowers, and the fresh leaves, and the waters, and the breezes, the gay, beautiful birds, and the silent dews, on sun, and moon, and stars, on all, every thing of earth, rested the taint of sin. In the morning of this little day of time, what more deliciously sweet than to recline among the blossoming luxuriance of Eden, and worship God there, in his own temple? It was the object of life to enjoy its own blissfulness, and praise Him whe gave it. But when, on the whisper of the Tempter, sin came, it brought a change. The poison hid itself among all the beautiful things that we most love, engendering | thorns and producing discord: it festered in our hearts, revelled in our veins, and polluted our lips, until the angels veiled their faces in disgust, and man was left with 'no eye to pity, no arm to save.' Then, from the dense cloud, broke forth a ray of glory; a crowned head looked out in pity; divine lips bent to the poisoned wound; and lost, ruined man found a Saviour. He was heralded by angels; angels are still whispering, 'Look! look! live!' That Saviour is standing with love-beaming eyes and arms extended; but men are blind and cannot see his beauty. Shall I sit down among thy flowers, sweet Alderbrook, while my Redeemer is dishonoured, and my brethren, the sons of those who walked with God in Eden, die? Fault less, if blinded.'-'The just God will not be angry with those who, not knowing, have not loved him.' Who has said it? Ah! The invisible things of Him from the crea tion of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and godhead; so that they are without excuse.' The beautiful page of hill and dale and sky is spread open to all. I go to teach my brother how to read it. Dear, beautiful Alderbrook! I have loved thee as I shall never love any other thing that I may not meet after the sun of time is set. Everything, from the strong old tree that wrestles with the tempest, down to the amber moss-cup cradling the tiny insect at its roots, and the pebble sleeping at the bottom of the brook-everything about thee has been laden with its own peculiar lesson. Thou art a rare book, my Alderbrook, written all over by the Creator's finger. Dearly do I love the holy truths upon thy pages; but, I may not dwell 'mid flowers and music ever;' and I go hence, bearing another, choicer book in my hand, and echoing the words of the angels, 'Look! look! live!' I stand on the verge the brook, which seems to me more beautiful than any other brook on earth, and take my last survey of the home of my infancy. The cloud, which has been hovering above the trees on the verge of heaven, opens; the golden light gushes forth, bathing the hill-top, and streaming down its green declivity even to my feet; and I accept the encouraging omen. The angel of Alderbrook, the ministering spirit' sent hither by the Almighty, blesses me. Father in heaven, thy blessing, ere I go! Hopes full of glory, and oh, most sweetly sacred! look out upon me from the future! but, for a moment, their beauty is clouded. My heart is heavy with sorrow. The cup at my lip is very bitter. of Heaven help me! White hairs are bending in submissive! grief, and aged-dimmed eyes are made dimmer by the gathering of tears. Young spirits have lost their joyousness, young lips forget to smile, and bounding hearts and bounding feet are stilled. Oh, the rending of ties, knitted at the first opening of the infant eye and strengthened by numberless acts of love, is a sorrowful thing! To make the grave the only door to a meeting with those in whose bosoms we nestled, in whose hearts we trusted long before we knew how precious was such love and trust, brings with it an overpowering weight of solemnity. But a grave is yawning for each one of us; and is it much to choose whether we sever the tie that binds us here, to-day, or lie down on the morrow? Ah, the weaver's shuttle' is flying; the flower of the grass' is withering; the span is almost measured; the tale nearly told; the dark valley is close before us-trend we with care! My mother, we may neither of us close the other's darkened eye, and fold the cold hands upon the bosom; we may neither of us watch the sod greening and withering above the other's ashes; but there are duties for us even more sacred than these. But a few steps, mother-difficult the path may be, but very bright-and then we put on the robe of immortality, and meet to part nevermore. And we shall not be apart even on earth. There is an electric chain passing from heart to heart through the throne of the Eternal; and we may keep its links all brightly burnished by the breath of prayer. Still pray for me, mother, as in days gone by.Thou bidst me go. The sinile comes again to thy lip and the light to thine eye, for thou hast pleasure in the sacrifice. Thy blessing! Farewell, my mother, and ye loved ones of the same hearth-stone! Bright, beautiful, dear Alderbrook, farewell!' Soon after her settlement in Maulmain, Mrs Judson was robbed by the natives, to promote whose eternal interest she had left home and friends, of all her clothes, books, and those treasured relics which she carried with her as souvenirs from friends Amid such discouragements, however, listen to the touching and hopeful strains in which she addresses her father: 'A welcome for thy child, father, Is she to fold her wing, And live again the days when first Oh! happy were those days, father, Fevens sons and daughters called thee sire; The grave has claimed thy loveliest ones, Have left a shadow on thy brow, A sigh upon thy breath. And one-one of the three, father, Now comes to thee to claim Thy blessing on another lot, Upon another name. Where tropic suns for ever burn, Far over land and wave, The child, whom thou has loved, would make Her hearth-stone and her grave. Thou'lt never wait again, father, Thy daughter's coming tread; She ne'er will see thy face on earth, So count her with thy dead; But in the land of life and love, Not sorrowing as now, She'll come to thee, and come, perchance, Perchance --I do not know, father, If any part be given My erring hand, among the guides Who point the way to heaven; But it would be a joy untold Some erring foot to stay; Remember this when, gathering round, Let nothing here be changed, father, Where every ray of sunshine rests, And now I go; with faltering foot, I pass the threshold o'er, And gaze, through tears, on that dear roof, My shelter nevermore. 411 has closed her literary career with a poem, which, perhaps, Fanny Forester, the sweet and accomplished poetess, finds few parallels in all the circle of literary history. Bright be her career heavenward, and holy be the mingling of the poetic bays and Christian's wreath of amaranth upon her brow THIS is another appeal from Mr Guthrie's large, deep, A SECOND PLEA FOR RAGGED SCHOOLS. philanthropical heart in favour of the destitute, the wretched, and perishing children of the streets. original Plea,' which knocked at the Christian's heart, and asked the Christian's aid in a work which lay all beHis fore him, had not the authority of this, for, in addition to all that benevolence, hope, economy, and Christianity could then plead, he has now added the unconquerable arguments of fact and experience. He looked only forward then; now he can look triumphantly back, and exclaim, Behold the fruits! thropy than that followed by the friends of Ragged Schools. We cannot conceive of a more interesting path of philanmently demands the interposition of humanity as the We do not know a class that so imperatively and vehehomeless children of beggary. Mr Guthrie pleads for the little Bohemians of our city with a powerful and eloquent tongue, and would deal charity and knowledge to them freely and liberally as the Gospel commands; but the demands of the perishing are more than the treasury of the Ragged Schools can supply, and hence the necessity for his 'Second Plea.' there are some of the facts which it places before us of a It is pleasing to read Mr Guthrie's pamphlet; and yet very sad character. The grand and cheering characteristics of the 'Plea' are the fruitfulness of Christian charity, and the abundant capacity exhibited in the children for reformation. We see Christian benevolence working the good work faithfully; and we behold the dark brooding vapours of ignorance and vice in the children's polluted natures yielding to the sunlight of love and kindness. But what strikes us as sorrowful and cruel is the aspect which our criminal jurisprudence assumes towards these children, as viewed from the enlightened testimony of our admirable sheriff-substitute, Mr Jameson. Referring to the number and character of juvenile offenders whom it has been his misfortune to try, he makes the following remarks: 'As far as my experience goes, this system of awarding short imprisonments in the case of these young offenders produces none of the effects for which punishment is intended. It neither deters nor reforms. On the contrary, it seems only to harden the heart and destroy the character. By the time the case permits the judge to award an imprisonment of sufficient duration to give any rational prospect of benefit to the individual in the way of moral and religious instruction, the character is generally lost irretrievably. The evil is increased by the faulty constitution of the Police Courts, in which a number of unprofessional magistrates sit, who change every month, and who, differing in opinion in regard to the objects of penal discipline, pronounce every variety of sentence. The consequence is, that the punishment being uncertain and variable, as well as inadequate, the evils of short imprisonments are increased: they become a subject of mockery among the criminals themselves; and these convictions become a sort of training school for crime. Between the three years from 1843 to 1846, as appears from a published report of the governor of the Edinburgh Prison, 740 children under fourteen years of age had been committed to that prison. It is painful to think that, in the case of the mass of these unhappy beings, their sentence had no other effect than to extinguish any fear they previously entertained of the prison, and destroy any prospect of obtaining honest employment. You may conceive the distressing situation of the magistrate who is bound to sentence chil-off from the wreck little more than a third; and if, as is dren from nine to fourteen years of age to repeated short more probable, the number rises, not to 1000, but to 2000, imprisonments, with the moral certainty that each sen- there are now more than 1500 children within this city tence is rendering them more hardened in crime, and who are growing up to misery, to disturb and disgrace diminishing the prospect of any improvement in their society with their crimes, to entail on the country an enorcharacter or habits. To Mr Watson, sheriff-substitute mous expense, and to supply with their hopeless and unof Aberdeenshire, belongs the merit of first organising happy victims our Police Office and prisons. How hard an institution for arresting this great evil. He has con- and melancholy their lot! These 1500 children furnish clusively shown the practicability of placing almost the 1500 arguments for our schools; and while one solitary whole destitute and neglected children of a large town in victim remains unsaved, and so long as one is left hanging Industrial Schools, before they are destroyed by short im- on the wreck, we shall have standing ground firm as the prisonments, and, by means of a system of religious in- truth of God on which to appeal, both to the justice and struction and industrial training, reclaiming them from generosity of the public. So much for numbers. It may habits of idleness and vice. It has been publicly acknow- be well that the reader should next be furnished, from an ledged, that his system has already effected a great saving actual description of the case, with some idea of the state to the criminal expenditure of the county. Sheriff Watson in which these children are found. We select a few of endeavoured to stimulate his brother sheriff to make a these, and give them, as copied from our books, or the similar experiment in Edinburgh; but it was not until the record of the Police Office. Case 1. John H-, seven Rev. Mr Guthrie took up the cause, that the public atten-years of age, has been in the habit of sleeping in stairs, tion was awakened to the subject in a way to make the or wherever he can find shelter, and was sent to our school attempt feasible. Since these schools have been formed from the Police Office, where he was well known as a in Edinburgh, as Convener of the Acting Committee, as juvenile mendicant. He deserted school thirteen times; well as in the performance of my public duties, I have and when our teachers despaired of breaking in this young watched their progress with deep interest. I have fre- savage, a sister of about eight years old appeared at the quently taken it upon me to send very young offenders to school, as wild, wandering, and wayward as himself. The the schools instead of the prison, having first made care- report says, that the change on these children is such, ful inquiry into the circumstances of each case, and the that, instead of being a pest, they are now a pleasure.' history and habits of the party, and also conversed with Case 2. Anne B, thirteen years of age, was sent here and obtained the consent of the parents or nearest rela- from the Police Court, having been convicted of public tives, where they could be found. Some of the most in- begging. She could read none, having never been at any teresting children in the schools were admitted in this school. Her mother is dead, and her father has long way. I cannot say that I ever saw cause to regret making since deserted her. Her uncle resides in town,-goes to the experiment. On the contrary, after watching the no church,—but keeps a low lodging-house in a mean locaconduct and progress of those young boys and girls for lity. There are twelve beds in his house, and each of many months, I have been delighted to observe a steady these is generally occupied by three or four persons. She advancement, not only in habits of attention and industry, had to carry drink to the lodgers at all hours of the night; but also in the knowledge of those sacred truths which can and her fortune was, sometimes to get a bed for herself, alone regenerate our fallen nature, and permanently affect sometimes none at all. This poor girl, so nigh to destructhe heart. In many instances, those children who had tion, has been rescued from circumstances which would lived in habits of vagrancy, and commenced a course of have speedily ended in her ruin. She has found a Saviour crime, have given evidence of a degree of improvement and an asylum in our Ragged School: and now, sheltered under the discipline of these schools, such as I have never at night beneath the roof of a decent widow, she is happy, known to follow any of the repeated imprisonments I have contented, and willing to do well.' Case 3. ‘Jane T—, been obliged to award in other cases.' about eleven years of age. She has been wandering about the town, begging in ordinary, and stealing when she could; sleeping on stairs, or wherever a place could be found for her head to lie on, along with her brother, who is such another outcast and wanderer. She was sent to our school | from the Police Court. Their case, as well as many others, proves the early power of evil habits, and how difficult it is to tame these Arabs of the city. The day after being received into the school they both deserted. There was reason to believe the boy had committed some crime, for which he had been thrown into jail. The girl was | sought for: the lost sheep was found; and, by her excellent behaviour, she now promises, with God's blessing, to reward all the care and kindness she has received.' It will be seen by the above testimony with what prospects, in a cycle of three years, 740 children under 14 years of age were committed to prison; and, when such a fearful number of juvenile delinquents as this are thus sent to be hardened by the punitive system of the prison, oh, is there not cause for Christian men to try and snatch its victims from the law, and to soften them by the exercise of love? Let the following facts plead for themselves: 'In regard to the number of these unhappy children, it may be proper to state, for the information of those who have not read the first 'Plea' we ventured on, that, while engaged in writing it, we had statistics to demonstrate, that within this city there were at least 1000 children growing up in total ignorance and to certain crime, whose only hope of being saved from misery lay in the opening of an adequate number of Ragged Schools. We had certain proof of 1000, and every reason to believe that the number of these outcasts was not less than 2000. We have reason to give glory to God that that 'Plea," put forth in fear and trembling, was blessed to open the eyes and awaken the sympathies of many. Good has been done; but how much remains undone! To ascertain this, we requested our Superintendent to visit the other Ragged Schools in Edinburgh, and get an account of the numbers attending them and our own. These are nearly about as The importance and utility of these normal institutions are being extensively acknowledged and appreciated; and in order to furnish information and induce a general sympathy upon the subject of Ragged Schools, the Ragged School Union of London now issues a monthly magazine, with reports of operations and plans for extending and perfecting the same. There are many touching and powerfully affecting anecdotes told by Mr Guthrie in his Second Plea,' and in the front there are two most graphic and tell-tale illustrations. To us, however, there is scarcely a more affecting description than that of the simple routine of the school : All the scholars leave their homes or lodging-houses, and assemble within our walls, at seven o'clock in the morning in summer, and eight in winter. The first passage they go through, in the way of exercise, is a purifying one: they doff their rags, and march for some three or four yards under the cooling, cleansing, and copious showers of a large bath. Attiring themselves in the school |